


Until Kingdom Come

by yuktenisreal



Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Seulrene
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 23:56:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15651552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuktenisreal/pseuds/yuktenisreal
Summary: To kiss in the dark and never be satisfied.





	Until Kingdom Come

Seulgi’s hand brushes against something soft. Startled at the contact, her eyes fly open. Snapping back to her senses, she looks to her left. Her breath hitches at the sight of Irene’s serene face, her soft black hair falling gently over her face while she sleeps as if the beach is indeed the most comfortable place in the world to sleep at. Seulgi merely smiles at her, marvelling at the way her skin seems to shine in the sunlight, the way the lashes set upon her eyes shadow the signs of last night’s ruckus. Even now, Seulgi notices, sitting up, the beach which is littered with empty beer bottles and bodies of sleeping people who have passed out from endless rounds of beers and dancing to the same old repetitive ed music.

 The sea sparkles white on the horizon, the calm waves soothe Seulgi’s feet that are delved in the sand uncomfortably. Her elbows are chafed and her fingertips are slightly burnt from touching the hot sand to write a name: a pretty name that the waves have already erased. A sun is blazing lonely in the sky. Another sun, that is hers, is dozing off next to her, on the otherwise desolate beach. Warm. Blazing. Bright. Merciless.

She feels an urge, a raging-beneath-the-calm-facade kind of urge, where she just wants to reach out and hurt Irene. To hurt her is only one of the many things. She wants to kiss her too, to hold her face in an unyieldingly tight grip and to kiss it, all the corners, all its features, her proud cheekbones, her lazy smile. The aggression of her needs scares her, holds her back from even breaking the wall of uncertainty between them. Only last night, Irene’s soft lips had brushed against her own amid the roar of the crowd, her heartbeat going wild, haywire, ringing in her ears even after Irene is dragged away by a pair of arms linking adamantly with hers. Wendy’s.

 _Will she acknowledge it?_ Seulgi wonders but the answer is already known, it has always been set in stone, never changing. To be kissed by Irene in the flurry of a moment, to wake up with the sensation imprinted in your memory, to be turned away the very next morning by innocent forgetful eyes, such was the fate of Seulgi. A warm breeze brushes past the soft curls sticking to Seulgi’s cheeks. Her skins itches and burns under the sweltering sun. With pure amazement, she looks at Irene who sleeps unfazed by the unforgiving summer heat.

The sound of bare feet crushing hot sand, bottles clinking against one another in plastic bags awakens Irene, but the first thing she sees is Seulgi gulping down a beer with a desperation that’s almost funny. Beads of sweat cling to her neck, her forehead, her chin and every other place Irene takes her sweet time noticing, committing to memory. In the whirlwind of parties, she finds herself guided by an urge towards the crowded dance floor, towards the single most attractive thing in the world, a dancing body seemingly becoming the bright centre of Irene’s dull universe, Kang Seulgi, and then as if her tongue, in need of a certain taste that it can’t clearly name, finds its way to Seulgi’s lips, always wet, always ready. Irene’s recollection of last night is stopped short of its climax by Seulgi’s beer can landing straight into the bag rolled up to sit like a bin.

“Give it a break. Drinking first thing in the morning when you’re the one in charge of cleaning?” Irene says, slapping the next can out of Seulgi’s hand, only to find herself confused by Seulgi's wide smile, aimed clearly at her. _That’s new,_ she thinks. She longs to smile back but the expectations are needless, burdening and it makes their jobs harder. Irene has a family to feed, Seulgi is far from the fame she aims to reach. Work, work, party, clean up and work again.

“Well, I am,” Seulgi answers brightly, pointing towards the plastic bag full of cans which must previously have been scattered on the beach. Irene nods, approvingly but the smile on Seulgi’s face is alarming. Why is she so cheerful today? The answer lies like a blazing white ball of truth between them but Irene decides to play blind as always. Even with her back turned, as she scoops her sandals from a nearby spot, Irene can sense the disappointment on Seulgi’s face, can imagine it with perfect clarity, teeth chewing on her lower lip, worried eyes, eyebrows fighting the strain. It’s awkward to even turn around and say “let’s go, the sun is awful today.”

Seulgi, even without any verbal exchange, reads the cue and gets up, brushing the sand off her black denim shorts. Irene’s clothes might as well be the same as sand, seeing how the white grains clung to her back. Seulgi, without a single thought, reaches out and busies herself with patting it off. Shocked, Irene stands absolutely still, hoping against hope to stop her mind from conjuring things, to not feel her body tingling every time Seulgi’s fingers slow down to brush off some persistent sand stuck in the crevice of Irene’s dress from last night. She feels out of place now, wearing a satin blue dress on a burning beach with Seulgi in a bikini top patting her backside. It all passes in a second though, and before she can think any further, Seulgi is done dealing with the sand that had clung to her so annoyingly. Their eyes meet and Irene isn’t quick enough to turn away without letting Seulgi notice the slight pink in her cheeks, a sort of drunkenness in her eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Shameless Twitter Promo: @yuktenisreal & @JoygiPropaganda


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